And Then There Will Be Peace
by C.I.TigerFan
Summary: Endgame Olicity. POV present tense. Slow burn focusing on independent Felicity. Chpt 1: Felicity tells Oliver that he has to stop touching her. It sends him into a bit of a tail spin! Chpt 2: Male bonding and Big Belly Confessions. Chpt 3: Kick Ass Felicity. Chpt 4: Epic Failures. Chpt 5: Here's to New Beginnings. Rated T for mild language
1. Chapter 1: When Did That Change?

**And Then There Will Be Peace...**

**A/N:** So these two have brought me out of retirement. Don't care for the direction the show is taking them, but I love reading the wonderful Arrow fanfics on this site. Decided it was time to throw in my two cents. Hope you enjoy

**Chapter 1: When Did That Change?**

"Stop it, Oliver," she whispers and gently wraps her slender fingers around my wrist removing my palm from her cheek.

I must scowl in response because she squeezes my hand reassuringly before letting it drop to my side. "You have to stop... touching me," she says on a sigh.

I start to speak, but no words form. All I can do is watch her walk away. By the time I am ready to ask, she is typing furiously at her computers. We are the only ones in the lair. It's Saturday night. Roy and Sarah are working upstairs and Diggle has plans. I find myself hovering behind her. I know she is aware because she sits a little straighter, and her shoulders are tense. I move forward and reach for her shoulder, but I stop when I realize that I am about to touch her... again... and she doesn't want me to.

"Found it!" she says triumphantly, more to herself than to me. The fist pump makes me smile even though I don't really feel like smiling. She spins in her chair to face me. "Found the money trail. It should be easy from here."

I nod. She tilts her head to the side in that entirely Felicity way and silently asks me "_what's wrong_?" I hear her voice clearly in my head. "_Just tell me what you're thinking, Oliver._" I start to. I really want to, but I don't know how.

So she gives me the answer to the question that I am afraid to ask...

"Oliver, you have Sarah. She cares about you. The two of you make sense. You don't have to hide from her, you know? She knows your past and your present... The touching... it's not fair to her... It's not fair to me." I can see that it hurts her as much as it hurts me to think about stopping.

I start to protest even though I have no solid ground to stand on. She is right, of course. I have to stop touching her. I just don't know that I can.

"I'm sorry," is all that I can come up with.

Her eyebrow shoots up and anger flashes in her eyes. It is gone, however, as quickly as it appeared. "Don't be sorry, Oliver. I'm glad you have someone. I'm glad you're happy. I plan on being happy too you know." And there it is, that playful grin that pulls me a little further from the darkness. It fades too quickly, and I am afraid that perhaps she feels the darkness that surrounds me pulling at her. Then it registers. The thing that she has just said while I was simply watching her talk. _She's met someone?_ Yes, she just said that she has met someone. The fog lifts from my brain and I hear her again. "It was fun. We're gonna' see a movie tonight, at the IMAX." I am lost in her smile. She gives me the one that I can't help but return. The one full of hope. She thinks that I am happy for her even though that is not why I am smiling. Her computer beeps and she spins away from me. I want to gab her chair and spin her back, but I walk away instead, toward the mats, and loosen up for a workout.

I drop from the salmon ladder and see Felicity tidying her desk. "You leaving?" I ask as she pushes her chair back and stands, gathering her things. I have no idea how long I have been lost in my thoughts, feeling only the burn in my muscles. It's enough to mask the pain that I cannot define. I grab a towel, round the computer table and stand too close to her. I don't really know why I do it, I just want... I don't know what I want, I just do it.

"Movie, remember?" she says seemingly unaffected by my nearness. _When did that change?_ She stretches her neck and turns back to her computers. "He's picking me up at eight. I'm gonna' leave these scans running. If anything pings, just leave it and I'll check it tomorrow." Finally she slows her hands and turns back to face me. She catches me staring. "What?" she asks, brows furrowed.

All I can do is shake my head, and step back to give her room. As she walks by, I reach for her arm. I don't mean to, but not touching her proves to be too difficult. She stiffens at the contact, and I let my hand drop back to my side. "Have fun," I say, surprised by the way my voice cracks. She nods without looking at me and heads for the steps.

Arrow/Arrow/Arrow/Arrow/Arrow/Arrow/Arrow/Arrow/Arrow/Arrow

He brings her home a little before midnight. They walk slowly up the steps to her little house with the big front porch. When she turns to face him, my heart clinches. Her smile is radiant and full. She is happy. He must say something witty because she chuckles and touches his forearm. He seizes the opportunity and lays his hand at her waist. I start forward, intending to do what, I don't know. He leans in, and I look away. I cannot watch. The scene, however, plays uninvited in my head. She steps forward and slides her hands behind his neck... behind _my_ neck. Yes, in my mind's eye, it is me that she is reaching for. I stay frozen in place, holding on to that image. Then it hits me. She is moving forward, and I am moving backward, sinking into my past, into Sarah. Sarah is a part of me, but she is not my future.

I open my eyes, and I see him trotting down the steps. At least he isn't going to stay the night. Of course he isn't going to stay the night. This is Felicity. Staying the night comes later, much later, and this guy understands that. I know that if she ever looked at me that way again, I... I would do nothing as always. But I am no gentleman, and I worry that she _will_ look at me that way, again, maybe someday. Yet, now that I allow myself to think of her, I realize that it has been a while since she looked at me at all. _How long, I wonder?_ _When did that change?_

From where I sit, I can see what I assume to be her bedroom window at the back of the house. _Why have I never been inside her home?_ Because I am a terrible friend, that's why. She opens the window and I pretend that she is opening it for me. Behind the thin, shifting curtains, I see her silhouette and it sparks my imagination. She is changing into her sleep clothes. A comfortable pair of pajama bottoms and an old t-shirt, I'm sure. Felicity would opt for comfort, not for sexy like the other women I have bedded. I say that as if she is one of them. She is not, nor can she ever be. Yet a part of me refuses to let that notion go. She turns off the light and I scan the area. She was right when she said that if Slade wanted her dead, she would be dead. I wouldn't be able to stop him. That is the only thing that scares me. I lied when I told Sarah that I am not scared. A half truth, really. I am not scared of losing Sarah. It should have been her in the first place, not Shado, but that isn't Sarah's fault and I don't blame her. I blame me. I will do everything that I can to keep Sarah safe, and Digg, and Roy, and Thea, and my... _Do I care if my mother dies?_ Yes, I suppose I do. It would kill Thea to lose her. The thing that I will die doing is protecting Felicity... and Thea if Roy fails to do so.

I drop from the tree where I have been perched for hours now. I am tight with tension, but I cannot relax. The sound of my bike fills the night air. One last glance and I speed away. I will lie to Sarah and tell her that I have been on patrol. If I told her the truth, she would understand. She knows that I need to protect Felicity. Someone has to protect Felicity. But she would see that it is more than just that, and I don't want to hurt her. I catch her watching _me_, watching Felicity. She would guess why I really came here tonight. I think she, like me, knows that eventually, she and I will fail each other as we always seem to do.

**A/N: Short and sweet. Thanks for reading. It has been a while... should I continue? Reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2: Big Belly Confessions

Chpt 2: Big Belly Confessions

I hate this dynamic. For the last two weeks, Felicity has been the last to arrive at the foundry. She is freshly showered and dressed down in her casuals. What worries me the most is that she barely says a word when she is here. Oliver stays on the far side of the room. He and Sarah speak in hushed tones. Our sparring matches are subdued at best. It's too quiet. Sarah is headed upstairs to work behind the bar at Verdant. She kisses Oliver goodbye and he stiffens as he always does. She must notice. Maybe she hopes that one day he won't. I rest my hand on Felicity's shoulder, and she acknowledges me with a tilt of her head. Her cheek briefly lands on the back of my hand, her nimble fingers never missing a stroke of the keys. "I'm taking Oliver to the Big Belly. Will you be here when we get back?"

She shakes her head. "No, I'm heading out early tonight. Brant plays basketball in a men's league at the gym. He asked me to come."

I smile, but it is perfunctory. I am happy for Felicity. This guy, Brant, has a clean record, and he seems to treat her well. Hell, he's a _fireman_, but he isn't Oliver, and Oliver is my friend. He won't survive without Felicity. But Felicity is my friend too, and I'm afraid she will not survive _with_ Oliver. I don't blame him, but everyone he touches seems to turn to shit. Let's review. Laurel needs rehab. Sarah fell in the ocean only to resurface in hell. McKenna was shot. Helena lost her mind. Not sure I can blame _that_ on Oliver. Isobel is Isobel. Not sure I can blame that on Oliver either. And Felicity, well she doesn't smile… or ramble like she used to. I clear my throat and wait for Oliver to stop beating the hell out of our last remaining training dummy. He stops and I toss him a towel. "I'm getting something to eat. You coming?" His gaze flicks to Felicity across the room. "She has a date," I tell him, and I am surprised at the accusation in my voice. Oliver scowls, but I'm not sure if it is because of my tone or the simple fact that Felicity indeed has a date. He walks past me and grabs his shirt. I take that as a "yes" and head for the steps leading to Verdant. "Later Fe," I say as we pass by her computers. She waves without taking her eyes from the screens. Oliver says nothing, but he slows as if he might before he thinks better of it. Felicity stiffens, but her fingers never slow. She is getting too good at this, and it worries me.

Oliver sits across from me at a booth by the window. We order our usual, and he glances at me before turning his attention to the emptiness outside. I watch him avoiding me for a second before I chuckle at how ridiculous this is. That earns a glare. I shake my head. Fear is not one of the emotions that Oliver elicits in me. Exasperation, anger, frustration, and even a little empathy… those I am familiar with, but not fear, never fear. "You want to talk about it," I ask. He rolls his eyes. "That doesn't work with me." He turns his attention back to whatever it is he sees through the window. "This shit's gettin' old, you know."

"Would you like to be more specific?" Finally, a response. I'll take it.

"This mission you're on to isolate yourself from everyone that cares about you."

"The only _mission_ I'm on is to stop Slade Wilson from killing everyone I care about."

"What, by pushing them away? And by 'them', I mean Felicity."

Something akin to anguish slides across his face. "That was her choice, Digg, not mine."

"Because she asked you to stop touching her?"

He is surprised that I know. It isn't often that I surprise him. He regains his composure, mask in place and says, "She told you that?" as evenly as if he is asking for a refill on his Coke.

"She tells me a lot."

His brow furrows and he is silent. I know he is jealous of my friendship with Felicity. I shouldn't gloat, but… "You understand why she asked you to stop, right?"

"I…" He stumbles on his words and looks toward the ceiling to gather his thoughts. Good, he's been thinking about it. When he finally speaks, he is cautious. His words are delivered slowly and deliberately. "I think she's going to leave… QC… the Arrow… me."

That is not the response that I expected, but I am curious. "What makes you think so?"

"She's different. We're different. Things have changed and not for the better. She used to be the first one to the foundry, and I had to practically force her to leave. Now she shows up late and jets out early. She has a life outside of…."

"Outside of you." He retreats from the truth and sinks back into the booth. "Oliver, you had to know this day was coming. I don't think Felicity is ready to quit either of her jobs. But, I do think she's had enough." His jaw clinches and I allow him a second to contain his anger. "Look, I'm not saying this to hurt you, Oliver, but you've had that girl on stand by for too long. She's special. And a woman like that doesn't come along every day. You either care about her or you don't. If you don't, then you have to find a way to let her go. She has a chance to be happy, and I'm proud of her for taking it. But if you do care about her, then you better hurry up and tell her because this "maybe yes, maybe no" is killing all of us. You included. She didn't ask you to stop touching her because she's leaving Oliver. She asked you to stop because she _can't_ leave. She believes in what we're doing out there. She believes in you, and she's willing to put aside her personal feelings for the good of the mission, but every time you touch her, every time you stand a little too close or look at her a little too long, you make her hope that maybe, just maybe, there's a chance for the two of you. It's selfish Oliver. Kudos to her for calling you on it."

He smiles woefully. Again, not the reaction I was expecting. "She always calls me on my bullshit. It's one of the reasons I love her." He says it more to himself than to me, and I watch as he realizes what it is he has just confessed.

The waitress brings our food, and I give him a second to gather himself before I state the obvious. "You need to fix this."

"How?" He scrubs his face. He is agitated. "What about Sarah?"

"Be honest with her." I shrug as if it were that easy. "I don't think she'll be that surprised."

"Why? Because I'm an ass and breaking her heart was inevitable?"

"To tell you the truth, I don't think you're gonna' break her heart. I don't think it's _yours_ to break." He glares at me for only a second and then rolls his eyes on a sigh. He agrees.

"Are you worried she'll leave the team?" I ask. Strategically speaking, it would be a hard blow if she did.

He shakes his head. "Not until we beat Slade. After that, who knows?"

"I hate to complicate things, Oliver, but what about Felicity?"

"I can't… I won't make her more of a target than she already is. If Slade is watching her, then this _Brant_ guy is the best thing that could have happened."

I snort at the way he says his name. I've heard Oliver spit venom before, but that was classic. I get a scowl in return. "You know Felicity would call that look 'growly face' if she were here." That earns a ghost of a smile.

"Digg, I won't let anything happen to her. Our mission is one, keep Felicity safe and two, take down Slade. Are we agreed?"

I nod. "We're agreed."

We eat in silence until our plates are nearly clean. Correction, my plate is clean. Oliver has effectively shoved his food around for the last thirty minutes. He's contemplating asking me something, but I know not to push. "Do I really touch her that much?"

"You would be shocked at how many times you touch her in a twenty-four hour period." Poor guy, he looks confused so I illiterate the facts. "You keep your hand on her lower back when you walk together. You slide your fingers down her arm when you're talking. You keep your hand on her shoulder or around her shoulders when you stand by her computer desk. You like the way she blushes when you stand too close to her especially when you're shirtless and sweaty. It's pathetic, really."

"Do you think Sarah notices?"

"That would be an affirmative."

"Damn it. I never met to hurt her, Digg."

"Who?"

This time Oliver snorts. "Either one of them."

"Lesser men would kill for your problems, Oliver," I say as I grab the check, effectively declining an invitation to his pity party, as always. "Come on. We need to get back."

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews, follows, and favorites. Just a little male bonding in this one. Hope you enjoyed. Reviews are always appreciated!**


	3. Chapter 3: Kick Ass Felicity

**Chpt 3: Kick Ass Felicity**

"Son of a...!" I yell, but I stop myself from finishing. No one is in the lair but me. Oliver and Sarah are out with Gorgeous Laurel, plus one. A double date_._ _Yeaaaaah for them_.

Digg is out with Lyla, and Roy is working upstairs. It's just me and the punching bag. So far, its punching bag one, Felicity Smoak zero. I've been hitting this thing for an hour now. _Therapeutic, my ass_. My knuckles are bruised. I'm sweating like a fat man in Florida, and I think I pulled a muscle.

Currently, my hands are on my knees, my pony tail is in my face, and all I want is oxygen. When I feel like I can stand without getting dizzy, I catch a glimpse of myself in the window. The last time I wore these clothes, Oliver asked me what the hell I was wearing. _Screw him_. Had he bothered to wait for an answer, I would have told him that I'm taking a self-defense class at the gym two nights a week and a kick boxing class the other three. Shove that in your abs and crunch it, Oliver Queen.

"You're girlfriend isn't the only female on this team ready to kick a little ass," I say and I kick the punching bad as hard as I can. I swear, this time it kicks back and I'm fairly certain I just broke a toe. But, you know what they say, "no pain, no gain," so I kick it again and again and again. Punch, kick... Punch, punch, kick, until the bag is a blur through my tears.

"Damn it!" I hate to cry, especially when I don't even really know why I'm crying. One more punch and I'm done. I hit my knees and suck in loud audible breaths. I am exhausted, physically and emotionally. For weeks now, Oliver has been avoiding me. I guess its all or nothing with him. Apparently no touching translates into no communication of any kind. I miss the days of bullet ridden laptops and sports drinks in a syringe. I start to laugh at just how bad of a liar he was… is, and I think I must be delirious. I can't stop laughing, and I can't stop crying. Maybe I'm losing my mind. Great, the one thing I _do_ have going for me and I'm losing it just as sure as I'm lying on a mat in a poorly lit foundry basement home to a grown man who runs around in tight, green leather pants and a mask. No wonder I'm losing my mind. I love him, and I hate him. Mostly I just want to smack him into next week.

I let my eyes close and I try to think about Brant. He's tall and handsome and smart and funny. Does he add an aspect of danger to my life? Of course he does. He's a fireman. Does he belong in a Greek tragedy? Certainly not. And thank goodness for that. Does he turn my crank? I have to admit that there have been some pretty spectacular sparks. Is he broody sexy? No, he's down right sexy. Do I see myself truly, madly, deeply for _him_? No, I don't, and that brings me back to what scares me the most. What if I never get over Oliver? "Nonsense!" I say out loud. We all want what we can't have. The trick is in wanting what we have after we get it. I'll concentrate on that.

The next thing I know, someone is yelling my name. Not someone, it's Oliver. I open my eyes, and he is much too close. He looks terrified and his big hands have my face trapped between them. I swat at him like I would a swarm of gnats. "Oliver, let go of me!" I say as I sit up, bang my head on the punching bag, and scoot away from him. That's punching bag,_ two,_ or is it three, maybe four? Not sure, but F. Smoak, _still_ a big fat zero. Oliver's chin drops to his chest and his shoulders slump. I stand in an attempt to gain my composure. "What is wrong with you," I squeak.

He takes a deep breath and stands. "I thought you were…."

"What?" I snap and rub the back of my head. I want an explanation. More than that, I'm cranky, and he is the only one around to abuse.

"I thought you were hurt or..."

"I'm fine, Oliver. I must have fallen asleep. Won't happen again," I say as I grab my gym bag and head for the bathroom. I close the door with a little more umph than I intended and start the shower. I am no different than anyone else on this dysfunctional team. I work out and then I clean up, just like the rest of 'em. Oliver had a custom walk-in shower built when he renovated the lair and Verdant. It's beautiful really, big enough for two… Now I just want to hurl. I bet he and Sarah have… I can't even think it. Sure enough, there's a sweet smelling bottle of shampoo right there next to his man wash. _Well doesn't this just suck!_ I grab my own shampoo and body wash from my bag and step in despite the reminders of a life that is not mine. I have to admit, the shower _is_ lovely. Four shower heads, all strategically placed. _Ain't luxury grand_. I decide to sing. If I sing, I won't think.

When I extricate myself from the bathroom, the lair is once again empty. Half of me is disappointed, but my better half yells, "That's right Oliver, you coward, run! I am woman, hear me roar!" The real me squeals when Sarah drops from the salmon ladder right in front of me.

"Oh, sorry, Felicity. I didn't mean to scare you."

She is sincere, no trace of the sarcasm she uses with Oliver. I've tried to hate her, but I can't. She's too flippin' cool. Truth be told, I like having another girl on the team even if she totally stole my man. And by my man, I mean my boss who I have never had any actual claim to. I realize a little too late that not only did I squeal, but I have adopted a defensive stance, ninja style, and Sarah is trying to hide her amusement. "Try and remember what I told you. One foot a step in front of the other," she says as she adjusts my position. "Keep your weight centered here," she adds and lays her palm on my abdomen. She shoves my shoulders forward so that I am centered. "Hands up a little higher. Protect your face." One more small adjustment and she steps back to critique my stance. "That's better. A little more muscle, Smoak, and you convey quite the intimidating force."

"There's the sarcasm," I snark, and stand up straight, feet together, hands by my sides.

"I'm serious. You've been working out haven't you?"

"A little, I guess. You know, weakest link and all."

"More like heart and soul of this team," she says as she grabs a towel and wipes her face.

I shake my head. "I'm just the IT girl."

"Right," she whispers.

"Well, thanks for the pointers," I say a little awkwardly. "See you tomorrow?"

"Not, tomorrow. Not for a while."

Well that's very mysterious. "Are you going somewhere?"

Sarah busies herself with the free weights. Honestly, I don't think I could _roll_ that much weight across the floor much less lift it repeatedly. "I'm meeting an old friend. Gonna' see if I can get a little help taking down Slade."

_Just let it go, Felicity_. "By old friend, you mean Nyssa? Or maybe someone else from the League," I ask complete with air quotes around the word League. _ Please_ _just kill me now_.

"The less you know, the better Felicity."

I think of all the things I know that could get me killed or arrested, not to mention the things that come out of my mouth. "Amen, sister," I say before I can stop myself. "Where were you two years ago with_ that_ sound advice?"

She levels me with a look, and I wring my hands in front of me."When do you leave?"

"Tonight."

"Does Oliver know?" _Why Felicity? Why? Of course he knows. He's her boyfriend. They live together. Here, in this basement, as a matter of fact. I'm standing in the middle of their home asking her if her boyfriend knows that she is about to run off to meet her ex significant other to ask for help in defeating her current boyfriend's arch enemy. A boyfriend that she no doubt knows I have feelings for. Correction, used to have feelings for. Okay, maybe I still have feelings for him, but I'm trying very hard not to._

"He knows."

_What is it with the people I surround myself with? Are they not allowed to answer a question using more than three words in a sentence? Is there some sort of vigilante hero code that I'm not privy too?_ "Well, have a nice trip," I say lamely. "Be careful."

"Yeah, I will," she says, and she gives me that same look that she always gives me. It's like a Mona Lisa smile. I'm not sure if she is annoyed or amused.

I use the basement entrance that leads to the back parking lot. I wonder briefly where Oliver went then I see him, right on cue, leaning against my car, arms crossed over his chest. I take a deep breath and continuing walking straight toward him. I mean, my car. I'm walking straight toward my car. He is between me and my driver side door. I stop in front of him and match his stance. He stays quiet for a moment and his eyes roam my face until they finally lock with my own. "Do you think people can change?"

_Really? That's the conversation he wants to have? "_Oliver, I think people can get better if they work at it. We are who we are. Rarely does that change, but I think we can put forth a better version of ourselves as we live and grow. At least that's what we should try to do."

He scowls. Perhaps he was hoping I would say 'yes' and leave it at that. He should know better. I drop my bag to the pavement and steady myself. "What is it, Oliver?"

"Felicity, I've been selfish my entire life. That's not an excuse, it's a fact. I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. I didn't think about how my actions, you know, the way that I touch you… I didn't think about how that might make you feel. I never meant to lead you on. I just… I don't know, sometimes I just need to remind myself that you're real. I've never really known anyone like…"

"Hold up, Oliver." I can feel the angry flush racing up my neck and into my cheeks. "You think I asked you to stop touching me because it, what, makes you too hard to resist? Of all the egotistical, self-absorbed…" I shake my head. No word is strong enough to describe the depths of his self-centeredness. "You are unbelievable, Oliver Queen!" I emphasize the unbelievable part by poking him in the chest, **twice**. Apparently I am feeling quite bold. "For your information, I asked you to stop touching me because it's patronizing and condescending. You can't pat me on the shoulder and tell me I'm a good girl, your_ best_ girl, like you would a golden retriever who just fetched your newspaper! Perhaps that might have worked on the old Felicity, the me that left her dignity in the bottom of a syringe full of innovative sports drink technology, but not now. I've done and seen too many things, Oliver. I am not that same girl. You don't get to pat my cheek and tell me I'm your_ partner_ just because you think I need a bone," _three, two, one_ "which is totally in keeping with my golden retriever metaphor and is in no way meant to be a sexual ref…"

And then he kisses me. He grabs my shoulders, hauls me to his chest, and plants his lips square on top of mine. I freeze, and then I melt. He feathers his fingers through my hair and slides his arm around my shoulders. He smells like musk and sweat and adrenaline. I close my eyes and lose myself in his kiss. It is gentle but demanding, much like Oliver. A soft mewl escapes my throat and I crash. Anger swells in my chest, and I shove Oliver hard. He barely moves, but it is enough to get his attention. "What the hell, Oliver?" He is shaking, as am I.

He looks paniced. An emotion I rarely see in him. "I'm sorry. I thought… I didn't mean…"

"It's okay," I say and I lay my hands on his chest. "It's okay. You just… surprised me." The hurt on his face has me scrambling to explain. "Oliver, now is not the time for this. We," I say as I move my hands back and forth between us, "this, this is not a good idea. You have so much going on right now with QC, Slade Wilson, your mother. Oliver, you're exhausted. Let me be your friend again. We're good together. We make each other better. Maybe someday, when all of this craziness is done, we could give "us" a try, but it has to be when we're both on solid ground. It also has to be when we're both single. I will not be the other woman. Surely you can understand that." He looks at his feet and nods in agreement. "Oliver," I whisper and take his face in my hands, force him to look at me. "You are one of the most important people in my life. I think that maybe I've led _you _on by reacting the way I do when I'm around you, and I'm sorry for that. I will admit to having a little fan-girl crush once I found out about your night time activities. Billionaire CEOs with a bad habit of hanging out in rough coffee shops don't impress me. You've seen one, you've seen them all. But a focused and disciplined man who selflessly puts himself on the line for his city and his friends, that's something you don't come across every day. I love you, Oliver. I love you on so many levels. You've taught me to be strong and confident in a way that I never thought possible. I want you to know that I'm here for you no matter what, and should working with the Arrow get me hurt or worse…" He grabs my wrists and interrupts me with a plea, one word... Felicity. "Oliver, listen to me. I have absolutely no regrets when it comes to what we do. None. My life, my choice, remember?" He wraps his arms around my shoulders and again pulls me to his chest. The gesture is tender this time, protective and loving. I lay my ear over his heart.

"Felicity, I don't know what it means to be a friend. I think the closest I've ever come is being a good wing man to Tommy and he was supposed to be my best friend. I'm not sure…" His voice falters and all I want is to comfort him.

"Hey," I say and pull away just enough to see his face, "we'll figure it out together, okay? Don't worry," I wink, "I'll let you know if you're doing it wrong." He smiles and I feel the butterflies awaken in my gut. _Down kiddos. Now is not the time. _I pull away from him and he is slow to let me go. I pick up my bag and wait for him to move, but he doesn't. "Oliver, you better get back inside. You have a girlfriend to say goodbye too."

"Felicity," he drawls. It is amazing how much weight my name can carry when it leaves his lips.

"Go," I say. "We're good here. Way better than we were an hour ago." I smile, and I find that I mean it. He returns the favor.

**A/N: Whew! That one got away from me. Apparently I had a lot to say. I like independent Felicity. Thanks for sticking with me. I hate to admit it, but reviews are addictive. Please feel free to fee my habit **


	4. Chapter 4: Epic Failures

Chpt 4: Epic Failures and Other Mistakes

"I'll be back as soon as I can," she says and kisses me goodbye. It's a quick peck, and I wonder if it means as little to her as it does to me. She steps back and I see her searching. I try to reassure her with a smile, but it is fake and if she knows me at all, she knows that it is rehearsed.

"Be careful," I say, and I run my hand through her hair. "Stay in touch."

"Will do," she says simply and squeezes my forearm. Just like that she is gone. All I can do is hope that Slade is more patient than I. We need time and help.

The foundry is quiet. It is late on a Tuesday night. The double date was a bust, at least on my end. Sara and I met Laurel and her dentist friend for dinner. A lawyer, a dentist, a bar tender, and a CEO. It sounds like the start of a bad joke. Laurel droned on and on, the dentist tried very hard to be impressive, and Sara laughed a little too loud, a little often. Maybe she was overcompensating for my lack of participation. It's just so hard to set there and be still and engaged. I sit all day listening and participating. Most days I feel like a caged animal. I wouldn't be able to handle it without Felicity by my side. She knows when to push me and when to let me be. These past two weeks have been hell without her. She dutifully reported to work, but our interactions were brief and formal. There was more than just glass separating us. I feel like I can breathe again now that we are okay. I can't help but laugh when I think about our exchange tonight in the parking lot. Someday I plan on halting her every ramble with a kiss. Someday, when she is mine.

Felicity is right, I am exhausted, but sleep will elude me. I hit the mats and push myself for as long as I can before I move to the salmon ladder. It has been at least a week since I have worked out on the salmon ladder. It just didn't have the same draw knowing Felicity no longer cared to stare. When I can barely stand, much less work another muscle, I head to the shower. I step in and reach for my soap. There is an extra bottle on the shelf. I open it and Felicity fills the room. I can't help the physical reaction that I have to her scent, not when I am naked and wet in a shower where she likewise stood not too many hours before. I close my eyes and I imagine her pressed against me. Sara and I were never together in here. As a matter of fact, we were rarely together at all. There was that first night, brokered by the need for comfort and release. Beyond that, with the traffic in and out of the lair, the monitors, the training, the patrols, and our other jobs, it was rare that we made the time to be together. As much as it stings my pride to admit, I was a poor substitute for Nyssa. Perhaps Sara was a poor substitute for whom it is I desire most as well.

I collapse on the makeshift bed that Sara and I have shared for the last couple of months. I haven't been home in weeks. The last time I went home, Slade Wilson was there and my entire world came crashing down around me. Why he chose not to kill Digg that night, I will never know, but I am grateful. I will morn Slade's death when I kill him. And I will kill him eventually. I just hope I don't lose my mind in the process. Like I told Sara, he is ten steps ahead with an army of resources at his disposal. I hide behind a mask and a hood, flanked by the people that I love and will die to protect. I worry, however, that Slade will not allow me to die. If he hurts Felicity or Thea or Dig or Sara or even Roy, death would be a welcome reprieve, and that is why Slade will keep me alive. He wants me to suffer, and suffer I will whatever the outcome. I close my eyes and picture Felicity in my arms. Her lips are on mine and I feel the promise in her kiss. Perhaps I will sleep tonight after all.

**Arrow/Arrow/Arrow/Arrow/Arrow/Arrow/Arrow**

It has been a long night chalked full of bad decisions. I should have let Helena kill her father. He is dead all the same and Helena still has no peace. I finish converting the "baby arrows", as Sara so defiantly referred to them, into full on killing tools, and I place them back into their case. Nothing more to do down here so I head upstairs to lock up. Felicity and Digg are sitting together at the bar. It is the middle of the week and Verdant is closed. I found Thea as soon as I returned from seeing Helena. Another one of my epic failures. Thea just left, heartbroken, and it is my fault, but I don't regret what I did. Keeping her safe is _the_ most important thing. I haven't seen Roy since I asked him to give up the one thing he loves most in this world. I refuse to lose him to the Mirakuru. I _will_ find a way to save him. I stop in the shadows and watch my two closest friends talking quietly. Digg is nursing a glass of amber liquid, scotch, knowing Digg, and Felicity is swirling a red under her nose. There is a third glass on the bar, a half empty beer mug. Maybe Roy? I start toward them when a man that I do not know slides onto the stool next to Felicity. He says something that I cannot hear, and she smiles up at him warmly. Digg smiles too. I realize that this is the same guy that I saw taking Felicity home. This is Brant. Felicity reaches for Digg and squeezes his hand. She and Brant stand together, and he slips her coat over her shoulders and his arm around her waist. He is tall, taller than me, and lean. Digg said he plays basketball and coaches a team at the boys' and girls' club. _Of course he does_. _He probably builds Habitat houses and beats back four alarm fires single handedly_. I watch from the shadows as he takes her hand and leads her toward the door. It is only after I hear the metal clang of the heavy doors shutting that I join Digg at the bar. "How long you been hiding?" he asks with a smirk.

"Long enough," I say, and pick up Felicity's discarded glass. "That was him," I ask although I already know the answer.

"Yep," he says and downs the rest of his scotch. "He's a hell of a guy, Oliver."

"So you've said."

We sit in amiable silence until Digg rounds the bar and offers me a drink. "I'm good," I say and finish what is left in Felicity's glass.

"How's Thea?"

"Heartbroken."

Digg nods, but it is the arch in his eyebrow that tells me he does not approve of my interference. "Oliver, how do you plan on handling Roy, now that you've taken away the one good thing in that boy's life?"

My anger flares, and I fight for control. "I did what I had to do, Digg, to keep Thea safe.

"You really think he could ever hurt her?"

"You don't know what Mirakuru does to people. If he lost his temper, if they had an argument and he lost it, even for a second, he could kill her, Digg."

"You know what I think, Oliver," he asks, but he doesn't give me a chance to respond. "I think you're punishing that boy for your mistakes. You couldn't save Slade, you couldn't save Helena, and you're afraid you won't be able to save Roy so you forced him to cut ties with the one person who might actually be able_ to_ save him. Why do you think Slade lost it, Oliver? He lost it because he had no reason to keep it together. The woman he loved was gone, and he blamed you. Who do you think Roy is gonna' blame?"

I slam my fist on the bar. "I hate what happened to Roy! I do! But I can't change it. And I won't let my sister suffer because of it. If Roy needs to blame me, then let him. If he loves my sister, then he'll work hard, learn to control the rage. Until then, he has to stay away from her. It's the only way to keep her safe!"

"Is that why you chose to let Felicity go rather than telling her how you really feel? To keep her safe?"

"I didn't choose to let her go," I say warily. "I kissed her."

Dig crosses his arms over his chest and scrutinizes my expression. "Come again?"

I can't help the up-tug of my lip. "I kissed her in the parking lot. Right out there," I say and point over my shoulder.

Digg tries to read my face, but I am deliberately coy. He squints and purses his lips. "She smacked the shit out of you, didn't she?"

I chuckle at his assessment. "Not quite, but close," I say and shake my head. "She's amazing, Digg. She told me first and foremost that she would **not** be the other woman."

"That's my girl," he says proudly.

"Yeah, she also said that we need to be friends again before we can be anything else."

"Smart girl."

"No question," I say.

He grins mischievously. I didn't know Digg did that. "How was it, the kiss I mean," he prods.

"Like I said, she's amazing." I try not to let my smile completely overtake my face.

"What are you gonna' do now?

I draw in a deep breath. All kidding aside, I have one goal. "Keep her safe, whatever it takes."

"Agreed, but I meant, what are you gonna' do about her new man?"

I scrub my face. I'd really like to put an arrow in him and be done with it. "I want her to be happy, Digg. Safe and happy. If that's with _him _then that's the way it is."

"Bull shit. You two belong together. Give it time… Be her friend, let her be your friend… and whatever you do, don't try to use your Ollie charm on her. She hates that guy."

Again I am reminded that despite all the damage and the heartache that I have caused, forgiveness and friendship are still available. It is that as much as it is remorse and regret that keeps me fighting.

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think. As much as I hate to admit it, reviews keep me going.**


	5. Chapter 5: Here's to New Beginnings

**Chpt 5: Here's To New Beginnings**

When I arrive at QC, Felicity is already there at her desk. "Good morning," I say, but all I receive in response is a wave. She has pulled her monitor to the side of her desk and is slumped toward it as if she has already been here for several hours. Her hair is down today and wavy. It swept to the side in an artful drape over her shoulder. Beautiful, except that it creates a curtain over her face. I want to reach across her desk and pull it back so that it falls to the other side. It reminds me of the first time that I saw her all dressed up in her little gold cocktail dress. That was the night the Dodger put a bomb collar around her neck. That was the night I realized there was way more to Felicity Smoak than I had ever considered.

"Do you need something, Oliver," she asks sounding a little annoyed, but she does not stop typing.

"What are you working on?" I say even though I know that I likely will not understand a word of it. Really I just want her to pull her eyes from her monitor and turn them toward me, but she doesn't.

"Just working on a way to better protect our computers."

It is clear that her new program is way more interesting than I am so I check my watch and head to my office.

When I reach my desk, I see that she has three stacks of files waiting for my undivided attention. The sticky note on top of the first stack reads "For your review and signature, ASAP." The second says, "READ THESE! VERY IMPORTANT!" The third stack is labeled "Stop procrastinating on these. Not that important, but you still have to muddle through them." The note is punctuated with a hooded smiley face. I look up expecting to see Felicity grinning at me through the glass, but all I see is her back, and I feel a pang of disappointment. Usually she sits stock straight when she is working. More than once she has chastised me for my poor posture behind my desk. Her last ramble on the subject included oxygenation and circulatory data including brain and bone decay associated with poor posture in people stuck behind a computer all day. I smile when I think about it and roll up my sleeves. Apparently I have a lot of work to do today.

I've been drowning in big words and thick files for the last three hours. My stomach alerts me to the noon hour as Digg appears at my door, perfect timing as always. "You ready for lunch?"

"Please," I say and look around him for Felicity.

"She's not here," he says. I must stare a little too long at the empty space on the other side of the glass because Digg asks, "Everything okay with you two?"

I shake my head. "Something's off."

"Should I be worried," he asks.

My phone buzzes. It's a text from Felicity: "Won't be back today. Not feeling well. No meetings this afternoon so you should have plenty of time to finish going through those files. Sorry. Fe." I show it to Digg.

"There's your answer," he says. "Let's eat." I nod, but lunch is not the only thing my gut alerts me too.

When Digg and I return from lunch, we find that Felicity has had a temp sent up to answer the phones. She is waiting for us in the front office. I barely notice her, but I can't say the same for Digg. He closes the glass door behind us, and I hear him chuckle. I deposit my jacket on the back of my chair and look up at him, clueless as to what it is he finds so funny.

"Did you not see that," he asks and chucks his chin toward Felicity's desk.

I glance past him. "What?"

"You come back from lunch to find a beautiful red head in a short tight dress with a rather revealing neck line leaning against the desk and smiling suggestively, and you don't even notice. What's that about?"

"I noticed her," I say rather unconvincingly.

"Yeah, well she definitely noticed you. I think maybe you ought to stay in here for the rest of the afternoon just to be safe. Want me to stand guard at the door while you work?"

"I think I got it, Digg. Thanks," I say and roll my eyes.

"I'm just saying, if you need me to run interference, you know how to find me," he says as he backs for the door. "See you at 5?"

I nod and then survey the remaining pile on my desk. "Hey, Digg! Make it 4," I call and he waves a hand over his head as he heads toward the door and my new temp.

Digg drops me at the foundry and I tell him to take the night off. "Tell Felicity I said 'hi'." Apparently I am transparent when it comes to her.

It is 6:00 and I find myself on Felicity's front porch, supper in hand. I knock but there is no answer. I knock again and call her name. I sense rather than see or hear movement behind the door. "Felicity?" I call. Still no answer. I rattle the door knob, but it is locked. "Felicity!" I am considering knocking the door down when she opens it, but just a crack.

"Oliver," she says, but I can't read any meaning in the way she says my name. I only know she sounds tired.

"You okay?"

"I'm better, thanks," she says through the crack. Although I can only see her left eye and half of her tight smile, I can tell that she is freshly showered and her hair is piled on top of her head. Even without a stitch of make-up she is beautiful.

"I brought you something," I say hoping that my offering will earn me an invitation, and I hold up the brown paper bag in my hand. "Won Ton soup and an egg roll from Ming Lau's on 4th." I wiggle my eyebrows hoping to tempt her into opening the door all the way. "I remember you once said Ming Lau's Won Ton soup can cure anything." She smiles and I _hope_, as always.

"Thanks, Oliver, but I might be contagious. I don't want you to get sick."

"I'm pretty hardy, you know."

"Yeah, I've noticed," she says and her cheeks flush. It reminds me of our early interactions, and I remember the time when I tried to pass Vertigo off as a sports drink in a syringe. I told her I wanted it analyzed because I am particular about what I put in my body. She said then too that she noticed, and immediately tried to back out of it. Classic Felicity. I feel the same warmth now that I felt then, only this time, I realize it is amplified by desire.

She reaches for the bag through the crack, but the crack is too small for it to pass. She opens the door just a hair more and angles her body to the side. I shove my foot in the space playfully, forcing the door to open a bit wider. She over-reacts to my advance and retreats, stumbling over the rug and flinging the door wide open in the process. "Felicity!" I shout and rush forward to catch her. She drops the bag and folds in on herself in a protective stance. That is when I see the small, fresh bruise on her neck. It is the size of my thumb. I feel her stiffen beneath the hold that I have on her wrists. I lower her hands from in front of her face and my stomach drops. There is a purple and blue bruise over her right eye and her lip is split on that same side. "Felicity," I whisper, but I choke on her name. "What happened? Who did this?" Her hands shake beneath mine, and I feel like I can't catch a solid breath.

"Oliver," she rasps. "I… He…" Her eyes plead with me for strength before she falls forward onto my chest. I gently wrap my arms around her, and I can feel how her entire body trembles.

"Felicity, talk to me. Do we need to go to the hospital?" She shakes her head, no. I rest my chin on the top of her head and we sway back and forth until her trembling slows. I do not know how long we have been standing here, but I will not let her go, not until she asks me too. Her knees give and I feel her slipping. I do not know the extent of her injuries so I lift her gingerly and cradle her against me. I place her on the couch and kneel in front of her. I cannot help the way my eyes roam over her face and down her neck.

"I'm okay," she whispers.

"I'm gonna' get you some Kleenex and a glass of water." She wipes her nose on her sleeve and nods. I look toward what I think must be the bathroom and find a box of tissues on the sink. The kitchen is around the corner. I reach for a bottle of water from the fridge, and I am surprised at how my own hands shake. My mind is racing and I am trying hard to keep it together for Felicity's sake. When I return to her, she is hugging her knees to her chest in the corner of the couch. I sit next to her, close enough to touch her, but not close enough to crowd her.

"Felicity," I say as gently as I can. It isn't until I touch her hand that she looks at me. I hand her the water and a Kleenex, and offer her what I hope is a reassuring smile. "Can you tell me what happened?"

She sniffs and takes a sip of her water.

"Oliver, promise me you won't go flying out of here half-cocked, ready to put an arrow in him."

"Him, who," I growl.

"Promise me, Oliver."

I close my eyes and force the anger down. My temper is the last thing she needs right now. "I promise."

She hesitates and draws in a deep, steadying breath before she answers. "Brant… It was Brant."

She's right, all I needed was a name. Every part of me wants to charge out of here… now… and finish him. I'm going to hunt down that son of a bitch and put an arrow through his heart.

"Oliver, listen. As soon as it happened I called Lance and he handled everything."

_Lance? Why would she call Quinten Lance? _

She answers as if she has read my mind. "I didn't call you Oliver because I wanted this to go through the proper channels. If he did it to me, it's likely he's done it to someone else."

"What did he do Felicity," I ask, although I am not entirely sure that I want to know. I try desperately to cap my fear. "Did he…" It occurs to me that I am a coward. I expect her to relive what I cannot even bring myself to ask.

Felicity's eyes grow wide. "No, Oliver! No." She shakes her head and I know that she is telling me the truth. I close my eyes and blow out a hard, relieved breath.

"We were at his house Saturday night, watching a basketball game. There's some big college tournament going on right now. His team was losing and the ref made a bad call, I guess. He started screaming at the TV, all kinds of obscenities. He had had a little too much to drink, but I didn't say anything because I had my car there so it wasn't like he was going to be driving me home or anything, and besides, that's what guys do, right? They relax, have a few beers, and watch a ballgame? When he asked me to come over and watch it with him, he said he had originally planned on watching it with some of the guys from his firehouse, but… He was just so sweet. He said he had rather watch it with me. I told him that I know absolutely nothing about the game of basketball, but he didn't care." She sounds sad, regretful. "Anyway, I made some stupid comment about how it was just a game and how life would go on as usual the next day..." She stops and her lips disappear into a tight, thin line. Her knuckles are white against her knees and her breaths are coming quickly now. I reach for her carefully so as not to spook her and gently pry her fingers loose. She wraps them tightly around mine, and I lower them to her sides. I scoot closer and pull her legs across my lap. She seems to relax a bit and continues. "He looked at me like I had two heads and started screaming about a bet and how much he stood to lose. I think I made some kind of apology and tried to calm him down. That's when he lost it completely. He… He slapped me and I stumbled, but he grabbed me before I hit the floor… I tried to push him away, Oliver, but he… he." She rips her tissue in half and one trembling hand lands on her forehead and scrapes through her hair. I catch it when it falls back to her lap. "He punched me. He punched me and he threw me against the wall." Her lip trembles and I want so badly to pull her to me and take it all away. "That's when he put his hand around my throat…" Her voice cracks and I can no longer maintain the careful distance between us. I lift her into my lap and cradle her to me. I am grateful when she does not pull away. She nestles her forehead into my neck and I know that she trusts me. "I couldn't breathe. Everything started to go black and quiet. It was soooo quiet. That's when I heard Digg."

"Digg?"

She nods and sniffles. Her tears are silent and it breaks my heart. "I heard Digg's voice. He told me to find a weapon. He told me once that anything can be a weapon if you use it right. I saw the lamp out of the corner of my eye. I grabbed it, and I hit him… I hit him as hard as I could." She says it with a strength that I do not expect. "I think a part of me intended to kill him." I should say something, but I am speechless. "He fell, and I ran. I grabbed my phone and my keys, and I called Lance from my car. When he got there, Brant was still out."

Relief floods me and I swell with pride. "You're remarkable, Felicity." She lifts her chin and gives me a sad smile. "I mean it. You're amazing."

She scoots off of my lap and snuggles into my side. I turn to face her and slide my knee under hers. We both lean our heads on the couch. "I don't feel amazing. I feel like I got my ass kicked."

"Seems to me you're the one that did the ass kicking," I say and I take her hand in mine. She watches me, watching her as I try to find a place for all that she has told me. One question plagues me, and I have to ask. "Why didn't you want me to know?"

She looks at our hands and shrugs. "I guess I didn't want you to see me as a victim. You already see me as the damsel in distress, or the weakest link, or… whatever you want to call it. Just think about how many times you've had to save me in this last year alone." She glances up at me, gauging my reaction.

"Felicity," I say, and I run my knuckles down the side of her face. I can't help it, I have to touch her. "I don't see you as a victim _or_ a damsel in distress, and you're certainly not the weakest link. You're strong and smart and you've saved my ass more times than I can count." I take her face in my hands and I stroke her unblemished cheek. "You saved _yourself_, babe. What you did was beyond strong, beyond brave, and I'm so proud of you, Felicity"

A strange look crosses her face and I let go, but I do not drop my hands. She smiles hesitantly. "Did you just call me _babe_?"

I chuckle and drop my forehead to hers. Twenty minutes ago I was as scared as I have ever been. I think it is safe to say that my brain is not working exactly as it should be right now. "You prefer 'sweetheart' or maybe "pumpkin"? How about I call you pumpkin?" I tease.

"Don't you dare," she laughs and does her best to level me with an Arrow worthy glare. She pulls her knees from my lap and crosses her legs in front of her. I miss her warmth immediately.

"Does it hurt much," I ask, and I can't help but ghost my thumb over her lip and eye.

"Only when I breathe," she jokes and then her eyes grow big the way they do when her brain to mouth filter has failed her. "Not that I'm complaining, about breathing, I mean. I won't ever take _that_ simple act for granted again."

I grimace at the hard reality of what could have been.

"Lance gave me an ice pack and two Tylenol at the station. It took a lot of the sting away."

"He took you to the station," I ask in disbelief.

"He wanted to take me to the hospital, but I wouldn't let him. I was fine. No concussion, no cuts that needed stitching. I just wanted to make my statement and get home. Lance even called Laurel. She talked to a sympathetic judge who was kind enough to grant me a restraining order that keeps him far, far away until he goes to trial. Lance charged him with assault and a few other minor things that won't stick, but Laurel said we have a good case against him on the assault charge. They took some photos at the precinct of my face and neck."

I cringe at the thought of all she went through alone. "Before you get all broody faced there Oliver, I wasn't alone. Detective Lance stayed with me the whole time. He followed me home when I left and put a patrol car outside my door until morning." I guess my "broody face" doesn't go away because she covers my hand with hers and asks me not to be angry with her. "I didn't not call you to hurt you, Oliver. I just needed to see this through on my own."

I nod and she traces my jaw with her thumb. Something inside me shifts, and I feel more alive than I have since before the island. When her thumb stops and hovers just over my skin, I know that she feels it too. My heart is gaining speed and I find it difficult to catch a breath. I slip my arm around her waist and slide her toward me. She tenses and for a moment I think that maybe I should stop, but then her fingers scrape across my cheek and settle on the back of my neck. Her eyes flutter closed and she urges me forward. I trace the curve of her eyebrow with my nose and place a hesitant kiss over her eyelid. I feel her other hand tangle in the hem of my shirt. She sits straighter, and I kiss the bridge of her nose. As I slide toward her cheek, she tilts her head and I angle my lips over hers. We fit together like the last piece of a puzzle. One soft, slow kiss becomes a second and then a third. I feel as if I might shatter under the weight of all that she means to me. Her kiss is excruciatingly tender yet I am on fire for her. I pull her to me so that we are flush, and a small moan escapes her throat. It is too much and yet somehow not enough. One more lingering kiss and I reluctantly pull away. "I don't want to hurt you," I whisper. My voice is deep and raspy as if I have been sleeping.

"You won't, but thank you, Oliver. I don't want to move too fast."

I nod because I understand. I don't want to screw this up either. It's too important. "You care if I sleep on your couch tonight? I just want to be close." She smiles, but shakes her head 'no'. I try not to look disappointed.

"There isn't enough room on the couch for two."

**A/N: I think we can all take it from there, don't you Olicity fans? Holler if you hear me! I choose to believe that they take it slow and find their way **_**together,**_** down their own path, in their own time. I would truly love to know what you think of my little story so if you have the time, leave a review on the way out. Thank you so much for reading.**

**Ren **


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